


Viva La Resisitance

by Gatorade_blade



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Avian!Grian, Corrupt! Scar, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Guillotine, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I just saw the opportunity and took it, I swear I love Scar, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Inspired by the Mycelium Resistance, M/M, Viva, Xelqua - Freeform, corrupt government, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26608795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gatorade_blade/pseuds/Gatorade_blade
Summary: ‘There’s an old story my parents used to tell me, Mumbo. About an angel who stood for justice and the right. For the rights of others. And this angel stood up against the tyranny of the corrupt government which surrounded him. The angel found joy in standing up for what he believed in. And so he held his head up high as he led his resistance into a brighter, hopeful future. As he led those who believed in his dream.’‘And what happened to the angel at the end of the story?’‘Bold strokes ran black. And the angel was caught and beheaded. And his dream died with him.’They were just children at the time, barely 13 years of age.
Relationships: Grian/MumboJumbo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 67





	Viva La Resisitance

_‘There’s an old story my parents used to tell me, Mumbo. About an angel who stood for justice and the right. For the rights of others. And this angel stood up against the tyranny of the corrupt government which surrounded him. The angel found joy in standing up for what he believed in. And so he held his head up high as he led his resistance into a brighter, hopeful future. As he led those who believed in his dream.’ Grian smiled as he kicked his feet from the tree branch he was seated upon, just outside of the city he had grown up in. His white wings fluttering in the setting sun._

_Mumbo watched the other thoughtfully, his chest swelling in love for the male before him, for his excitement in the matter of his story. ‘And what happened to the angel at the end of the story?’ The question was of pure curiosity, but the switch in the shorter’s silver eyes had his breath caught in his lungs._

_‘Bold strokes ran black. And the angel was caught and beheaded. And his dream died with him.’_

_They were just children at the time, barely 13 years of age._

  
  


~~~~~~~

  
  


Mumbo sifted through the bustling crowd, pushing his hood lower on his face to cover his identity as he counted his breaths. He couldn’t be caught. Couldn’t _afford_ to be caught. Not here, not now. 

Despite his towering height, he was able to blend into the crowd, dark robe concealing pale skin as he bumped against other bodies haphazardly. He could hear his heart hammering in his ribcage, thumping against it with such vigor it started to hurt his chest. He grasped at the fabric around his torso as he finally made it to the front of the crowd, eyes hazing over with a fearful mist as he allowed his gaze to shift upwards.

_A guillotine._

He could faintly hear the church bells ringing from the distance, but his mind wasn’t here anymore. He swallowed hard to keep himself from falling over. He felt sick. Then almost like the flick of a switch, the crowds on the other side of the circle begin to part. 

If Mumbo’s stomach could drop any further, it just did. Because in the middle of four broad guards in the clearing, stood a petite figure. Sandy blonde hair fell messily over his hollowed face, his sun-kissed skin looked dull and battered as he was engulfed by the shade of the surrounding men. His hands were bound behind his back, and his signature sweater torn and stained in dried blood. 

But what had hurt the black haired male-hidden in the crowd-more than anything, was the sight of his back. What had once been two pristine, white feathered wings were merely a distant memory now. _Grian only had one wing._ His left wing had been removed entirely, and his remaining right wing was littered with bruises and crimson strikes, it was missing feathers and bent in a way that Mumbo can’t remember it looking like in comparison to how it did just last week. 

But last week was so long ago. Last week they were running the Mycelium resistance with a warmth in their hearts. Last week they were having dinner with the rest of the rebels in the underground bunker. Last week, Grian hadn’t been captured by the corrupted ruler, Scar.

Mumbo had to look away to keep him from bursting into tears. But his eyes remained open. Wide open in a fear that ran so many chills down his spine he was afraid he’d get frost bitten. But the dark cloak Grian had gifted to him, when he made his escape from the bunker when Cub and his army had found them, was still wrapped around his body, protecting him from the real cold of the world. 

The soldiers escort Grian up the spruce stairs and onto the stage where the guillotine sat, so proud and tall. Like the wood framing isn’t stained with the blood of the resistance. Like it hasn’t mercilessly slaughtered all of the people Mumbo held dear just last week. 

Mumbo’s eyes fix on the new figure who walks up the guillotine, it’s Cub. His hands are folded behind his back neatly as he steps onto the platform and stands beside the single lever which activates the deadly mechanism. He looks at it thoughtfully before his eyes flicker up to a building Mumbo hadn’t quite caught sight of for some reason. 

On the raised platform stands Scar and his second in power, Bdubs. Scar’s green eyes glimmer with a satisfied spark as he rests a hand on the railing in front of him. He stands tall and with the great authority he’s been granted by the people. Because for him, this is the end of the Resistance. Bdubs is behind him, his posture not nearly as straight and tall as he curls in on himself, hands grasping onto his stomach like he’s going to be sick. But he remains silent. 

Grian finally makes it up the set of stairs and is on equal eye level as the guillotine. His eyes are covered by his fringe, which falls ragged and dirty over his forehead, impairing his view. His features are cold and detached until the soldier who had been binding his wrists together finally lets go. The resistance leader just stands there, silent in his waiting as the murmurs of the crowd finally join him in his silence. 

“My citizens,” Scar starts with his voice projecting loud and clear, “Today is the day that we put a final end to the resistance, once and for all.” He pauses to reel in the shouts and applause the crowd has started. They cheer and smile, all but Mumbo. “And now, I give you the leader of them all: Xelqua!” There’s another roar from the crowd as all eyes fall on the man of the hour. “So Xelqua, any final words?” 

There’s another heavy silence which follows as Grian slowly starts to raise his head. He shakes his bangs out of his face and smiles so wide and devilish that Scar shivers, regardless of his distance from the criminal. He sucks in an audible inhale, sharp and precise as he screams out into the crowd. 

“VIVA!!” The world and all of it’s glory seemed to resonate with his ear piercing shout, and every breathing being shook in waiting, “THIS DREAM WILL NEVER DIE”. 

To the rest of the world, this was the final remark of ‘Xelqua’, nothing more than a promise to never be fulfilled. Viva meant ‘long live’ to the deaf ears it fell on. But not to Mumbo. No. Because just as Grian was to Xelqua, Mumbo was to Viva. Xelqua the avian, and Viva the Jester.

Grian’s eyes finally focused on the crowd, his piercing silver never faltering as he made direct contact with his best friend, his most trusted, right hand of the rebellion, and his lover. His wide smirk dies down into a soft smile, aimed directly to the black haired man in the crowd. And just for a moment, his eyes flickered in a fearful sadness, all that confidence draining into just a scared young man who was going to die, all because he stood up for what he believed in. But just as quickly as it had come, it was gone and his mask of confidence stood strong, as he shot a look up to Scar. _Challenging him_.

Scar grit his teeth and slammed his fist against the glazed railing of the outlook, calling out to Cub with a demand in his voice that made Mumbo flinch. Made Bdubs flinch too. Cub spared one final glance up at Scar before nodding and kicking the back of Grian’s legs and forcing him to kneel. The flightless avian’s thin neck slotted perfectly in position, and in one tug of the lever, he was dead. 

…

Mumbo’s hand flew to his mouth in utter horror, his brain going fuzzy and stomach churning as he choked back a sob. He couldn’t cry in such a large crowd. It was risky. And yet he did it anyway. One after another, salty tears fell from his horrified eyes, his chest heaving before he started to back away, slowly trying to exit the scene. 

He couldn’t hear the cheers of the civilians around him. Couldn’t hear the speech that Scar was giving or his staggered hyperventilating. But he did hear the sound of his lover’s dead body being kicked across the podium and cleaned up by the clanking soldiers. He could hear the sound of his heart breaking with every tear that fell until nothing but a void of darkness remained. 

And so he left the city. Left the crowds and bustling bodies. Left the ignorant cheering and any land Scar had power in. Left it all behind.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Left to keep his angel’s dream alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Ouch- that kinda hurt. I'm sorry,, sorta... 
> 
> I might do some installations into this universe if you guys are interested. I have some ideas that would fit well in this au, but just tell me in the comments if you want more :))
> 
> Also! The name 'Viva' was taken from Mumbo's earlier videos! In his first few videos he introduces himself as Viva and has the username 'v2_Jester' so I thought it would be interesting if I wrote about it (also since I always see things on Grian being Xelqua, and yet nothing on Mumbo's old name)


End file.
